Where the River Meets the Sea (Baywatch Oneshot)
by TimeOwl
Summary: (Movie version) After Baywatch is saved and Leeds is killed, Mitch has some healing to do and Matt volunteers to babysit. Realizations ensue. (May be OOC but I don't care, I stayed up until 6 AM for this.)


Where the river meets the sea

After everything happened on that fireworks barge.

After we returned and got Mitch reinstated as Lieutenant.

After I backed away when summer tried to kiss me in the lifeguard station.

After all that, after finally getting the respect and honor we deserved for shutting down a megalomaniac who had murdered countless people…

I was just…stuck.

I finally had the family I wanted. Everyone cared about each other here – and more than that, they cared about me. Something I couldn't say for my Olympic team.

It was maybe the first time I ever felt like I had a family, a place to belong. But still, something was missing. I think the others new it. Even after things returned to normal and we began patrolling Baywatch again, they gave me knowing looks. Summer avoided me that night, and barely greeted me after.

I asked myself repeatedly what was wrong. Why I didn't want to kiss summer. Why I had pushed my forehead against the nozzle of a gun when I thought Leeds had killed Mitch. Why I was so relieved when he crawled back on the boat, invincible. Why I had shoved the gun away when Leeds tried to shoot him again. Why I had punched Thorpe when he dared to say the beach belonged to him and not Mitch.

When I finally got back home – to Mitch's home – he gave me an actual bed instead of a cot in an old radio office. It was another guest bedroom I'd never known he had.

I said nothing when I collapsed on the bed.

For the next couple of days after the incident, Mitch was on bedrest. The poison from the sea urchin had done its toll and the gunshot as well, so it would be a while before he could go patrolling again.

He was in a lot of pain. C.J. offered to stay at home and take care of him, but I volunteered quickly. She gave me a knowing look and Mitch nodded gratefully.

I was Matt fucking Brody. A gold medal winner for the water Olympics. I was god damn untouchable.

But I would be lying to myself if I didn't admit how much the prospect of Mitch dying scared me. I could still see it, see him being shot, feel the cold nozzle of the gun against my forehead because without him nothing mattered anymore.

He had given me everything. A home. A family. A purpose. And he almost died.

 _Almost,_ I kept reminding myself, head in my hands as I tried not to obsess over it. Every time I helped change his bandage it was a constant reminder of how I wasn't fast enough. _Not this time._

Mitch wasn't as invincible as I'd once believed.

The first few days were odd. Before then, C.J. had always done the cooking and cleaning. I wouldn't do it because I slept on a cot. I'd been an ungrateful little brat but now, I was looking after him.

It was as easy as rain to jump back into my old routine. Growing up I always had to clean, make food, and clean some more. It was just the way I was raised. If things weren't clean I'd be taken out back and hit with a branch until I knew my place. I was good at this kind of stuff now. Cleaning, cooking. The first time I made Mitch dinner he sat amazed at the dinner table and asked C.J., "Is there a ken doll that knows how to cook?"

She smiled and shrugged. After, she did the dishes as thanks and said the house had never been cleaner. I was a little proud that I helped. Mitch said nothing, but he patted my shoulder, and that was enough.

A day later he began doing things more, insisting on taking out the trash, cleaning the dining room table – and when I went to help him down the stairs, he shrugged off my hand, giving me an annoyed glance. "Jesus, Malibu Barbie, I'm not a china pot. I can walk down the stairs on my own."

I kept my hand from shaking by stuffing it in my pocket. Watching him go down the stairs two at a time nearly made me choke.

A week into it he was already trying to go jogging again. I went with him, at first, because he was impossible to argue with.

"You may still be a walking semi but can you please not try to off yourself again?"

"Jogging isn't gonna kill me, little boy. Neither did being shot." He'd taken to calling me little boy ever since that night. All it did was make me remember.

He would've died. Would've – should've. That urchin saved him and that was the only thing that did. We would've lost everything that night. I would've lost everything.

After his first jog around the block a few times, he came home with sweat on his brow that shouldn't be there and a grimace on his face. I forced twice the normal dose of pain medication down his throat and shoved him onto the bed.

"If I wasn't in pain right now I'd think you were coming on to me," He joked but gasped when he tried to move further on the bed, jostling his wound too much.

I scowled at him. "You're the idiot who just got shot and decided to go jogging."

I stopped and took a deep breath. I was at my wits end. He wouldn't listen to me – would barely let me take care of him or change his bandages. "Why don't you just lie the fuck down like a good boy?" I asked, incredulously. "Jesus, you probably opened your stitches. You know, people care about you. Stop playing with your life like this."

"You care about me? Can't believe Ken finally has a crush." He smirked through the discomfort, his smile bright and perfect.

If at all possible my scowl deepened. "Of fucking course I care about you. I –" I hesitated, an apple in my throat and my jaw clenched, every bit of me strained.

He let his strong face fall. Now he was worried. He looked down and then back up. "Listen, kiddo, I'm sorry – "

"I'd die for you," I finally let out with a whoosh of breath, combing an anxious hand through my hair and looking away. "I almost did. When you died she held a gun to my head and I walked forward and put my forehead to it. So she wouldn't miss."

"I didn't die." He corrected, eyebrows furrowed, his deep eyes staring at me.

I frowned. "To me you did. Right then, you were gone, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"Matt…I didn't know it was affecting you this much."

I threw my arms out. "Well, now you know. I'm going downstairs to make some food. You want anything?"

"Come here," He interrupted, eyes serious and frowning.

I shrugged, "Don't feel like it."

"Matt." He said, intensely, and I swallowed, feeling my legs move without telling them to.

I stood standing above his bedside, looking anywhere else but him. I felt like a child about to get a scolding, like I was in trouble, like I was five years old again and had said something I shouldn't have.

"Closer," he persisted, and so I bent slightly. In a sudden move I didn't expect, he brought a hand up to rest at the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I stared at his features, a few inches from my face, and was forced to meet his eyes. They were deep pools of brown surrounded by stark white. The contours of his face were not stern, but serious, his mouth twitching into a smile before settling into a grim line.

"I'm not dead," He said in an even, placating tone. "I'm not gonna die, and I'm not going anywhere. Copy?"

I took a shaky breath. "Copy."

He let me go, untangling his firm hand from the small hairs at the nape of my neck, and moved to recline on the bed. He then smirked up at me as if nothing had happened.

"Water would be nice."

"Fuck you," I said, exasperatedly, before plodding out of the room.

I stomped down the stairs like a petulant child, but when I got to the kitchen all I could do was lean against the cold granite countertop and put my head in my hands.

The next week after he started arguing and fighting less. He still raised the odd insult or two when I wouldn't let him tend to his own wound. I was shit at it, but I wasn't going to let him do it alone. I knew how that felt.

We were still sometimes at each other's throats, but after the events at the barge, there was a unique understanding and respect in our relationship where there wasn't one before. It was odd. Sometimes I forgot where he and I stood.

He started calling me Matt again.

It was nice, for a while.

Everything changed however the day I thought he slipped in the bathroom.

I heard a squeaking sound and a yell and then something crash. I sprinted up the stairs after calling his name and ripped open his bathroom door – only to see him completely naked having dropped the shampoo bottle.

But that wasn't it. That wasn't what caught my attention at all. His hand was around his cock, having paused mid-stroke. It was the size of an arm. It could've been an entirely different limb.

After looking at it open mouthed and in shock, my eyes flicked back up to meet his. He wasn't ashamed at all. In fact, he was just startled that I'd barged in. Upon realizing I was frozen he winked like this was an everyday occurrence and flexed his pecks. "See something you like, kiddo?"

Almost immediately I backtracked and slammed the door shut, breathing heavy as I turned and sat on the bed.

First, I noticed my irrational fear of him _ever_ being hurt again, and immediately tried to stomp that down. Second, I realized not for the first time how attractive he was, even for someone older than me…and a guy. I wondered why I had suddenly noticed him in that way before thirdly finding out that I had popped a half chub in my shorts.

I stared at it for what seemed to be an hour but was only minutes. I'd gotten an erection. From staring at my captain. From staring at _Mitch_ naked in the _shower._ I was hard because I saw his massive _cock_ and because seconds before I walked in he'd just _came._

Fuck. How? How? What the fuck?

It startled me how fast I could get up and sprint down the stairs, leaving the sliding doors to his house wide open as I fled out and onto the street. The image was stuck in my mind and I could barely see as a car swerved and honked angrily at me.

I continued running the short mile to the beach, winded and ragged at the pace I had set. Summer was watching the sea with her binoculars in the lifeguard cabin, resting against the railing wearing only a swimsuit. The thing that scared me the most was the fact that I wasn't interested in staring at her boobs. _At all._

"Summer?" I asked nervously. "Can I talk to you?"

Startled, she looked down and saw me below, sweating clear through my sweatshirt, shoeless and tired. Her eyes became hard as she turned back to the sea and resumed her watching.

"Please!" I called up, worried. "It's about…Mitch."

She immediately looked back to me. "Is he okay?" She asked, jogging down the steps to meet me.

"He's…fine. I just need to talk to you. Can I just. Can we talk?" I stammered out, unsure what exactly I wanted to talk to her about but wanting to confirm something.

She sighed, looking at me wearily. "Okay…sure. Let me get my things. It's the end of my shift anyway."

We passed C.J. as she did her afternoon jogs, waving and smiling but mine was halfhearted in return.

After summer grabbed her things we trekked to the locker rooms, and I watched her undress from her bathing suit and put on regular clothes. She flicked her hair out of her collar and was surprised to see me waiting patiently and looking at her face, not her tits or her ass.

"Okay, something is seriously wrong," She muttered, taking a seat next to me on the bench. "Either that or you're not interested in me anymore. Then again I already knew that," She finished sadly.

"Summer – I…" I stopped. I knew what I'd done, I'd made her interested only to shoot her down when she finally was willing. It probably sucked. I guess now I knew why I'd done it.

"Don't. Just save it. What's wrong with Mitch?"

"Nothing. He's as healthy as a horse," I blurted awkwardly, before cringing at myself.

She arched an eyebrow, her neon blue eyes holding me under a microscope. "Okay…Then what's wrong?"

"I sort of…" I took a deep breath, looking away at the wall. "I saw him in the shower."

"You've seen him shirtless before, shouldn't be hard to handle," She countered, folding her arms across her chest. "Listen, if you're afraid that that's gay, you really need to grow up – "

"I saw him masturbating," I blurted. "I saw him cum and then he…he fucking winked at me."

She paused, staring, before slowly starting again. "I mean…that's weird, maybe, but that's a guy thing. Why come to me about this?"

It was then that I kissed her. Hard, open-mouthed, and needy like I was on fire and she was a bucket of water. She was startled at first but threw her arms around my neck and kissed back. Her lips were soft and supple but what I imagined was Mitch – the hard lines of his face and his thin stern lips parting against mine, the feel of his firm body on top of me, covering me completely –

I pushed her away, breathing heavily and standing up. "Fuck. Fucking – " I knotted my hands in my hair and paced, wiping at my face. This was beyond wrong. I wasn't gay.

"What…The fuck," She asked, dazed, looking up at me after fixing her dress. "Why the fuck would you kiss me after you said you caught Mitch masturbating!? What the fuck?"

"I'm – I'm Sorry. Summer, I'm sor-"

"This isn't about me, is it," She said in a low tone, standing up. "You're attracted to him." When I looked at her incredulously, she explained, "To Mitch."

"NO – " I caught myself. "Yes. Maybe? I don't know."

"Oh my god!" She said loudly, putting her hand over her mouth. "You _are!_ You're in love with him!"

"No – " I quickly amended. "I'm not in love with him, Summer. What the fuck?"

"It explains everything," She looked up, ignoring me completely. "I'm so _stupid._ He saved you and you saved him and he took you from pretty boy who is full of himself to pretty boy who cares about other people. Of course you'd fall in love with him. I never had a fucking chance."

"Summer, you're forgetting one thing," I waved my arms. "I'm not gay!"

"What was your reaction to seeing his dick?" She asked suddenly, deadpan, and I reeled back as if struck.

"I'm not telling you that."

She threw her arms out in exasperation. "You popped a boner. You got hard, didn't you? So you came running here like a scared little boy and tried to make yourself believe you're straight again." Her eyes watered. "That's fucked up, Matt. Real fucked up."

"Summer…Just cause I got hard doesn't mean I'm gay. Right? Summer I'm not gay. I'm sorry I did this but I'm telling you, I've liked girls all my life." I sat back down, putting my head in my hands and staring at my feet. "This has gotta be a freak accident, right? Is this normal?"

"I don't know, Matt. I don't know and I really, really don't care right now." She shoved the remainder of her stuff in her bag and closed her locker, turning on her heal.

"Wait! Summer, I'm sorry – " I stood up and reached out to her.

She shrugged my hand off. "Don't talk to me for a while," She struck me with her neon blue eyes. "I really didn't need this today, Matt."

"Please don't tell anyone." I plead, about ready to get on my knees. "Please. I'm serious Summer, this'll ruin me."

She scoffed. "You still care about your media Image? 'Famous gold medal Olympic Swimmer Matt Brody is now gay!'? Fuck off. I won't tell anyone, but maybe Mitch didn't change you as much as I thought."

She stormed off, understandably upset. I couldn't bring myself to stare at the swing of her hips like I used to. All I could think of was Mitch, saving my life, Mitch, almost dying…Mitch.

She was wrong. I wasn't worried about my image. The Olympics and my old team could go fuck themselves. Mitch _couldn't_ find out. If he did, I'd be kicked out. He'd be disgusted with me. I'd lose my friendship with him and everyone at Baywatch and then I'd be…nothing, again.

lf. "er incredulously, she explained, "ght Mitch masturbating!? What the fuck?"y on top of me, covering me complet

The following weeks had Mitch biting at the bit to get back out there on the beach. After one drowning scare and the inevitability of being short staffed, he ordered me to stop 'babysitting' him, as he called it, and get out there on the surf.

I couldn't agree more. Despite how much it made me feel better to see him okay, it made me feel ten times better to not walk on eggshells around him. Ever since the shower incident, I had been distant and a little jumpy. Even he'd noticed it – I shied away from his touch and did anything I could to make myself look the part of a straight man with only pussy on the brain.

Only Mitch had a dick. A really big dick that I couldn't stop thinking about. And you don't want to have massive dick on the brain when you're helping said guy with big dick down the stairs.

At this point I was sure Summer had told the others. Ronnie and Stephanie stayed away from me for the most part, Stephanie more so. I knew she was holding a crush for the big guy. _That makes two of us._

C.J. kept giving me sympathetic glances, like she'd known the whole time and was saddened that I'd only _just now_ got it. It was exhausting, measuring each interaction with everyone, trying not to let on that Mitch was handsome and charming and caring and witty and I might _really like that._

"Sir? Sir?" I startled at the sudden tapping on my shoulder and turned to find a middle aged mom of about 45 with a worried expression and short cropped blonde hair.

I scratched the back of my head, "Sorry, didn't see you there. Is anything wrong?"

"I can't find my son," She said quickly. "I've looked everywhere. He must've wandered off, but I'm worried."

"What does he look like? How old is he?" I fired off the required questions before radioing in to the rest of the team. A 240 is a lost child, 250 is a drowning one. Got it.

I left the worried mom with Ronnie to placate and did my rounds running up and down the beach. The later it got and the more people left, it became apparent he wasn't on the beach or in the water. We called in C.J. for an extra shift and she used the boat to skim the waters, checking for a floating body.

I ran beside Stephanie, panting and out of breath. He was nowhere, the mother was beyond panicking, and so was I.

This would be my first shift after Mitch was reinstated and I'd fucked something up.

"Where could the kid be?"

"Kidnapping, drowning, or he wandered away from the beach and he's on the boardwalk. We've checked everywhere _but_ the beach," Stephanie offered, panting just as heavily with her braid matted against her glistening neck.

"I'll check the boardwalk. You meet up with C.J. and see if she found something. If not go look near the rich white club. He might be somewhere up there."

"It's been two hours. We should call the cops," Stephanie murmured, but turned and did what I'd said nonetheless.

I heard the mom crying about how good of a child he was as I ran by.

It was a short but exhausting sprint to the boardwalk. People meandered down the shops, the cool air blowing past to make dust devils in the sand.

I checked each shop, from the first to the last. It was just my luck that the kid happened to be at the last, sitting at a table with a bunch of other kids like he belonged there, playing with them.

"God," I panted, out of breath, before approaching. "Hey, buddy, your mom is on the beach worried sick. I need to take you back to her now."

The kid took one look at me and started wailing his little 7 year old head off. Adults all around turned to look and I bent down and tried to quickly quiet the kid.

"I'm a lifeguard! I'm a lifeguard, isn't that cool? See?" I showed him my orange life raft and he stopped, looked at it, and then started wailing again.

It took thirty more minutes to get the cops there with the mother, and to quiet the child. Everyone around me at that point probably thought I was a pedophile trying to abduct a kid, but in the end, he went home with his mom and everything was fine.

C.J. and I followed suit, going home exhausted, dragging our feet through the front lawn and then across the threshold.

"Wow," Mitch whistled. "You two look dead. What happened?"

"Matt had his fun playing pedophile for the day –" "Hey!" "And we found a lost kid. Other than that nothing much."

"Pedophile?" he arched an eyebrow, eyeing me up and down. I rolled my eyes and moved to the counter, feeling sweaty and dirty and sandy like you couldn't believe.

"No," I corrected slowly, like they were both stupid. "The kid didn't believe me and his mom probably fed him that 'if a stranger wants to take you somewhere just scream your head off!' bullcrap so we had to get the cops involved. He wouldn't stop crying till his mom came and got him."

His laugh startled me but it made something in my chest tighten when I looked up at him and his impeccably bright smile. He walked by and ruffled my hair affectionately, his big calloused hand running through it.

"Good job kid. You too, C.J."

It left my head buzzing as he opened the fridge.

"I'm – uh…Gonna go take a shower," I said hesitantly, getting up and awkwardly tripping up the stairs away from them. Eggshells, here I come.

The shower was short and spent with me imagining all things grotesque to keep from thinking of Mitch and the way he laughed. The man had so much bass in his voice he damn near made the counter vibrate. _Imagine if he did that around your – Okay, baseball, think about granny panties, um…think about…drowning. Drowning, and how Mitch kissed you underwater to give you air. Of how he saved you._

Fuck.

I angrily got out and towel dried my hair before getting dressed in some shorts and a regular collared T shirt. Walking out, however, I paused in the hallway when I heard C.J. utter my name.

I peeked out slowly, looking at them both as they talked over the counter. The conversation was serious, as their faces were drawn. I swallowed thickly and stared.

"Mitch…" C.J. said, in a pleading tone. "I've known it for the longest time. I see the way he looks at you. Just…just talk to him."

"Talk to him? How do I talk to him when he's jumpier than a schoolgirl?"

"I don't know. Corner him, maybe?" She blew a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes. "Tell him how you feel about the whole thing."

"How I feel? He'll run in the other direction. And by that I mean he'll literally run."

"You don't know that. He might accept it. Okay?"

"And what if he doesn't. Things will be awkward. I don't think I could handle that."

That was all I needed to hear. I backed up, feeling a tightness in my chest I had never felt before. It was obvious from that conversation that he wasn't interested. She was trying to tell him how to break it to me, how to let me down easy.

And he was right. Were he to corner me like that, I would run away. He may be a literal wall of muscle but I was quick and smaller than him. I could easily run away.

And he was right. It would get awkward if he said he's not gay and these feelings I have are gross. If he says he could never love me like that, let alone someone like me.

I wiped at my mouth and turned, going straight to my room, leaning against the door when I closed it and looking up at the ceiling. Did I want him to…be interested?

I'm not gay. I could play that card. I could go out and get any girl I wanted. I could go back to being vomit commit. Alcohol sounded _really_ good right about now.

Without telling myself to do so, I packed my bags. After mending our relationship, I refused to live with things being awkward. Now they would be. I could find another place to crash. Tonight, under the pier would have to work.

After my duffle was packed I walked out into the hallway and right past them, gunning for the glass sliding doors.

"Matt. Where are you going?" I heard his deep voice behind me and turned to find C.J. looking at me worriedly and him questioningly.

"Leaving," I shrugged, closed-off, and opened the door.

"Where? We both know you don't have a place to go." His arms were folded as he stared me down, eyes narrowed.

I flinched away, looking out at his lawn and the sandy asphalt past that. "I don't know. I don't care. I'm just…going. If you don't want me to keep working at Baywatch, that's okay too."

"Where is this coming from, princess? Of course I want you to keep working. Why wouldn't I?"

I turned. "Maybe, you know, it's cause I'm in love with you and apparently everyone else knew it for a long time but me."

C.J. took in a sharp breath and Mitch froze.

"Yeah," I felt sudden power in my voice. "I heard you. Walls are thin. Try not to plan a pity party when I can hear it."

C.J. quickly gathered her things, "I'll stay at Ronnie's tonight, Mitch. See you, Matt," She muttered awkwardly, leaving out the back door.

"That's my que," I grinned at Mitch, who was still standing with his arms crossed by the counter. It was a fake smile, but I did it nonetheless.

"Matt, Stay. We need to talk."

"I heard everything," I bit out cruelly. "And this is me running, just like you said."

"I don't think you understand. At all. Stop being a baby and come back inside. Maybe we can talk like grownups."

"What? So that I can hear you say you don't like me that way, that it's 'okay that I'm gay' and that no one will judge me for it? Right. And that we can still be friends but every time I'm near you it's different and awkward? Like you said, I don't think I can handle that either."

"My god. You love to hear yourself speak. If you would just listen – "

I couldn't take much more and I was two seconds from actually crying. He saw me enough of a kid as it was, so no way in hell would I let him see me tear up. I turned and bolted from the room, cutting him off.

Almost immediately I heard him follow, his heavy footsteps just as fast as mine. I could've outran him if I put enough effort into it but apparently, I didn't, because two seconds later he was on top of me and I was on the grass, dazed and looking up at him.

I was right. His body _did_ dwarf mine, almost entirely…and I was no small dude.

It took a moment for me to realize I should try to get away. I immediately rolled over, putting my back to him so I could try an army crawl, knotting my fingers in the grass.

He pulled me back with one arm around my waist and I yelped, body flush against him with my ass pressed firmly against his groin.

I struggled, trying to get away, but it was in vain. He squeezed me closer and that was when I felt it – an erection pressed against my ass invitingly, almost tauntingly.

 _Fuck._

"You feel that?" He murmured, low in my ear, thrusting against me. I let out an involuntary gasp, struggling half-heartedly.

My mind couldn't wrap around what was happening. Why was he doing this? Was this some kind of sick joke? My struggling started anew as I thrashed against him.

He twisted me around until my back was on the grass again. He forced my arms above my head and held them there by the wrist, staring into my eyes with an intensity that burned.

As if his patience snapped inside him he leant down, covering me almost entirely, and kissed me. It wasn't reminiscent of when I was drowning – I wasn't hallucinating someone else. This was Mitch. The mitch I had seen get shot and fall off a boat. The Mitch who had taken my life and jumbled it like a broken puzzle before putting it back together ten times better than before.

His tongue entered my mouth and that was when I responded in kind, pressing up against him with all the untamed certainty I'd yet to find. His mouth tasted of the sea, salty and soft as he slanted his mouth against mine and nibbled at my bottom lip like it were something tasty.

I hadn't noticed, but I was groaning into every kiss, meeting him like a river meets the ocean. He smelled of salt and citrus, of the sea, and water had always been home to me.

He pulled away, panting, and I could feel his cock throb painfully against my thigh. "If you had just fucking listened, I would've told you I'm interested. I'm beyond interested."

"Why?" I asked, as that was the only word to enter my muddled mind. I looked up at him and felt safe, knew he'd always make sure I was okay.

He looked on in disbelief. "Why? _Why?_ Have you seen yourself? Jesus, you're prettier than half the women I've ever seen."

"But…you're not gay," I slowly said, getting a bit of my brain back after that incredible kiss. I'd never been kissed like that before.

He smiled a small, genuine smile. "You may be young but it's like you haven't heard of bisexuality before. I'm not interested in…most people."

"But…" I narrowed my eyes up at him, clenching my legs around his waist. He groaned. "But you're interested in me."

" _Yes,"_ he emphasized, pressing his lower half against me, grinding in a slow languid motion and I nearly lost it right then and there.

 _Fuck,_ I couldn't help but think, gasping when he repeated the motion. God.

I leaned up, practically asking for it, and he met me in another kiss. This time he let my hands go free and I let one roam from his chest down to the hem of his shirt, up and under. I had seen his muscles before but nothing compared to touching them, of feeling his hard body above mine, pressed against me like I was his.

In a sudden and unexpected move he pulled away and kissed down my jaw to my neck, where he buried his face in my shoulder, inhaling and breathing out, as if it calmed him.

"Mitch?" I asked, holding him there against me with a hand on the back of his neck.

He sighed. "You weren't the only one that was worried. When I saw Leeds with that gun pointed at your head I almost lost it."

I pushed him back just a bit to look him in the eyes as he'd done to me. "I'm fine. I'm alive." I followed it with a kiss, sucking on his bottom lip like he was the air I needed to breathe. I delved into his mouth and battled against his tongue, finally letting him win as he took over and knotted a fist in my hair. He pulled away, and I was breathless.

"I'm not going anywhere. Copy?"

"Copy."


End file.
